


A Pirates Life for Me

by SunnyBunnylove77



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirates of the Caribbean Fusion, F/M, First story, Inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean, Jon and Daenerys Are Not Related, Pirates, arya is elizabeth, gendry is will, i dont know how to tag this, tags to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-04-24 12:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19173709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyBunnylove77/pseuds/SunnyBunnylove77
Summary: The boy suddenly gasped, his eyes open wide, startling Arya. She put a hand on his shoulder, “It’s okay! You’re safe. My name’s Arya.”The boy looked around frantically, breathing hard before looking at her. She could see even in the darkness how blue his eyes were. “Gen-Gendry,” He managed to get out before falling unconscious again.Arya heard footsteps approach from behind. She looked to see her father walking back, a frown on his face. He kneeled next to where Arya was sitting on the ground next to Gendry.“Has the boy woken up at all?” Concerned was etched on his face.Arya nodded, “He woke long enough to give his name. Gendry.” And I think he might be a pirate, but she wasn’t going to say that bit.***Or, the Pirates of the Caribbean AU no one asked for.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in a very long time so I'm a little rusty! Sorry about that! I recently rewatched POTC and couldn't help but think about Arya as Elizabeth and Gendry as Will. This won't be completely like the film as I'll be merging the two worlds of POTC and GoT. I only have the beginning mapped out so we'll see where this takes me. Not sure how long this will be either. Hope you enjoy!

The air was full of thick fog. Arya Stark was standing at the front of the ship looking out waiting to see the shores of White Harbor. Her family was traveling from King’s Landing. Her father, Ned Stark, was friends with the King Robert Baratheon. They were making a social visit to see the royal family, something they do about once a year to keep up relations.

At the age of nine, she disliked being confined to a boat. She wanted to run around and explore. There were only so many places she could go on a ship and with her overbearing mother she was mostly stuck inside with her sister Sansa doing lessons. But dusk and nightfall were the one time of day she could have to herself. Her brothers would be inside after being out in the sun, helping the crew and such, all day and she’d have a moment of piece. She loved her brothers, but it was nice to have some quiet sometimes.

This evening however was filled with more fog than was typical. Usually, Arya could start to see the stars, as the sun was nearly set on the horizon. But she couldn’t make out any constellations tonight. Squinting, Arya could start to make out shapes in the water. At first, she thought they were making good timing and it was the beginning of the shores of White Harbor. As the shapes got closer, she could see it was actually debris of a ship. She gasped as she realized the fog must’ve been smoke from cannon fire leftover of the battle that obviously took place. What happened here?

Others on the ship, part of the night crew, started to notice the devastation as well. There were murmurs of what could’ve happened here. _Pirates_ , she could hear, was the most frequent whispered word. She’s never seen any pirates before, but she’s heard about them in stories. Those were here favorites to hear, full of adventure and action. Her favorite story was of a female pirate named Nymeria. She was most feared among the sea and Arya greatly admired her.

Arya squinted trying to make out the shape in the smoke and fog. It looked to be a large flat piece of the ship floating in the water with something on it. More wood and debris perhaps? But as they got closer, she could see it was a person. A boy!

“A boy! There’s a boy in the water!” Arya shouted, pointing over in the direction he was drifting.

Ned Stark who had come to see the devastation for himself after the crew informed him of what happened looked over in the direction Arya was pointing.

“Come on men! Let’s get him aboard the ship. He may still be alive!”

The crew scrambled on deck, some trying to find rope and others readying a small boat. The crew hurried hoping that the boy doesn’t drift too far from their ship. Arya watched anxiously next to her father as they secured the boy and brought him on deck. Two of the men gently placed him on the deck.

Ned put a hand on Arya’s shoulder, “Watch over him while I go talk to the men. Let me know if he wakes up.”

Arya just nodded as her father walked off, likely to try to find out more information about what happened. She sat next the boy. He looked to be unconscious, alive as far as she could tell seeing as his chest was moving up and down. He seemed to be about a few years older than her, maybe twelve or thirteen. He was broad but skinny, as if he wasn’t getting enough to eat. She picked up one of his hands and turned it, so his palm was facing up. She ran a finger lightly over his palm feeling the roughness. He wasn’t rich by any means then. She wasn’t sure before even with his torn clothing. That could’ve been caused by the ship being blown to pieces. So, he was a worker on the ship maybe?

Gold caught her eye when the moon came out for a second through the fog and smoke. She moved his collar aside, revealing a necklace. She picked up the gold chain and discovered a gold medallion on the end of it. Upon examining it, she could make out in the dark the markings of a skull and crossbones with intricate details on the side. Her hand froze as she sucked in a breath.

“You’re a pirate?” She whispered to herself. A pirate! A real, breathing pirate! Excitement mounted in her chest. He had to be, why else would someone carry a medallion like this around? It was dangerous to be a pirate; you could be hanged for it. Arya looked around discreetly before removing the necklace. She had questions for this mysterious boy. Who was he? Has he been on lots of adventures? What was being a pirate like? He wouldn’t be able to answer them if her father found out he was a pirate. She tucked the necklace safely into her dress.

The boy suddenly gasped, his eyes open wide, startling Arya. She put a hand on his shoulder, “It’s okay! You’re safe. My name’s Arya.”

The boy looked around frantically, breathing hard before looking at her. She could see even in the darkness how blue his eyes were. “Gen-Gendry,” He managed to get out before falling unconscious again.

Arya heard footsteps approach from behind. She looked to see her father walking back, a frown on his face. He kneeled next to where Arya was sitting on the ground next to Gendry.

“Has the boy woken up at all?” Concerned was etched on his face.

Arya nodded, “He woke long enough to give his name. Gendry.” _And I think he might be a pirate,_ but she wasn’t going to say that bit.

Ned looked thoughtful as he stared at the boy, “That’s good. He’ll probably be okay then. Continue to look after the boy till we reach White Harbor, yeah? We’ve only got about another day or so till we reach land.”

“Yes father.”

Ned ruffled her hair before standing up and walking away. Arya glanced up again looking out at the debris. In the distance she could swear she could see a ship with black sails through the fog. As she looked around at the crew, it seemed like she was the only one who noticed it. When she looked back at the water, the black sails were gone.

 


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Arya was closer to the pair she said, “I had a dream about you last night.”
> 
> “Arya! That’s hardly proper...” Her father looked uncomfortable.
> 
> Gendry blushed, looking away, “About me?”
> 
> Arya rolled her eyes at her father then turned to Gendry, “About the day we met, do you remember?”
> 
> Gendry looked less embarrassed now, a smile stretching across his face, “How could I forget, my Lady.”
> 
> Now Arya turned her annoyance towards him, “Gendry, how many times do I have to tell you to not call me ‘my Lady’?”
> 
> Gendry just smirked. They went back and forth on this subject all the time. It’s become almost an inside joke at this point. She’s sure he does it on purpose just to get a rise out of her. “At least once more, my Lady. As always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still feel rusty at writing but I think I'm starting to back into the swing of it. This chapter has a lot of exposition. We'll start getting more into the plot next chapter. Definitely wasn't thinking I was going to update so quickly but I love this idea! Thank you so much for all the feedback so far! Also lets pretend that White Harbor is a lot closer to Winterfell. Sorry for any mistakes! I briefly looked this over before I noticed the time and I have to get up early for work tomorrow.

Arya woke with a start, her pulse racing and palms sweaty. She sat up, shaking off the last of her dream. It was about the first time she met Gendry about nine years ago. She snorts at the thought of once assuming he was a pirate. He too much of an oaf to be one, she thought fondly. Her father, Lord of Winterfell, gave him an apprenticeship with the local blacksmith here, a man called Tobho Mott. Mott’s shop was down closer to White Harbor, which was on the outskirts of Winterfell.

Gendry turned out to be exceptionally good with his hands and the craft of weapon making. Tobho Mott often took credit for the work that he did, she knew, but she could always tell when a sword was his. It was always perfectly balanced, the weapons almost looking dainty with how polished and clean they were. When people assumed it was Mott’s work, Gendry would just smile and say he’d pass on the compliments. But Arya could see the pride in his eyes.

Still thinking of that night nine years ago, Arya walked over to a cupboard in the corner of her room. She opened a drawer and lifted a small secret compartment in the side of the drawer. It revealed the pirate necklace she found around Gendry’s neck. She was still the only one who knew about it as Arya was even too afraid to bring it up to Gendry. She didn’t want anything to happen to him or worse, be hanged for suspicion of being a pirate. She swiped her thumb across the medallion, wiping off some of the dust that’s collected. She hasn’t looked at the necklace in years.

When she was younger, she used to wear it under her clothes and pretend that _she_ was the pirate about to go off on an adventure. But as she’s gotten older her mother, Catelyn Stark, has only become stricter. Arya was a lady after all, she was supposed to act like one, she thought bitterly.

She put the necklace around her neck, the familiar weight resting on her chest. It wouldn’t hurt to wear it again. For old time’s sake. It’d be a small act of rebellion that only she’d be aware of. She smirked to herself at picturing her mother’s face if she ever discovered it.

**

Daenerys Targaryen sailed on her small dingy boat, angerly throwing buckets full of sea water over the edge of the boat. There was a small leak and the tiny boat was starting to take on water. She can’t believe how she found herself in this position in the first place. She was the _Khaleesi_ of the Dothraki pirates. They had a reputation of being the most feared pirates in all the sea, bringing destruction to those they encounter on the high seas.

But contrary to popular belief they didn’t attack out of evil, Daenerys was only ruthless with those who traded slaves or treated others wrongly. Those were the main targets, not harmless tradesmen and the like. She tried to avoid any ships that might contain Lords or Ladies or royalty.

She wasn’t welcome in Westeros and mainly stayed closer to Essos. Her family used to rule over the Seven Kingdoms but were wiped out with Robert’s Rebellion. It still angered her whenever she thought about it but she has since put the past behind her. She could do more good as a pirate sailing to places like Slavers Bay and helping those in need. If she were Queen there’d be too much politics involved to make the kind of radical change she was causing. She was single handedly destroying slave routes. So, she was content giving up the Iron Throne to be free sailing the seas being the Breaker of Chains.

Her crew were made up of Dothraki, fiercely loyal men. But only to the strongest leaders. Unbeknownst to her, one of her most trusted men, her second, Daario Naharis planned to betray her on their biggest score yet. She picked up Daario, originally a sellsword to the in the Second Sons, after one of her raids and he become a close friend and great asset. But he was always after the gold. Gold was needed to run their ship and to afford food, so they often stole from people, taking over their ships and robbing them blind. It was a necessary evil. One that Daario loved, moreso than she realized.

They got word of a huge chest full of gold on an island, not far from Braavos. It was said to have a mountain of gold inside. It would have been enough to last them for a while; they wouldn’t have to steal as much and could focus on freeing more people. But then Daario _betrayed_ her. In the middle of the night he tied her up and dumped her in a small boat and sailed away. She’d been drifting ever since across the Narrow Sea.

Daenerys could see a harbor in the distance. Finally, land! Just in time too. She’s not sure how much more her small boat can take. Judging by the ships in the harbor and the chill in the air despite the sun being out, she’d guess she was close to a northern city. Perhaps Winterfell? The harbor would then be White Harbor. A small port village located just outside of Winter Town, which contained the people who helped run Winterfell. The castle was run by the Stark family. Out of all the towns to drift upon she was glad it was here. She’d be less welcomed in the south if anyone recognized her.

Her sinking boat managed to carry her all the way to the docks thankfully. She stepped onto the dock with her head held high, after all she was still a _Khaleesi_ despite the fact that Daario occupied her ship. Daenerys was soon stopped however by the dockmaster.

“Oi! Ya can’t just leave a sunk boat in the harbor.” He said. He had a book in his hand, a quill poised at the ready, “And I shall need to know yer name, Miss.”

Daenerys took out the only coins she had, it wasn’t much, and put them in the book. “How about we forget the name and just act like I was never here?”

The dockmaster looked at her then at the coins for a bit. She was nervous he would refuse but then he slammed the book shut, coins still inside, and said with a big smile, “Welcome to White Harbor Miss Smith.”

Daenerys flashed him on of her biggest smiles, the kind that made men weak in the knees before walking down the dock with her head held high. If she took a small purse of coins left on the dock, then none the wiser.

**

After hours of complaint and fighting, Catelyn Stark finally wrestled Arya into a dress. And not just any dress. It even had a corset much to her chagrin. It felt considerably tight around the chest, almost completely constricting her ability to breathe. Her usual dresses she was forced to wear had more flexibility to breathe and move.

“Oh, stop your squirming Arya,” her mother said, “This is the latest fashion in Highgarden.”

“Well women in Highgarden must’ve learned not to breathe.” Arya said as she put a hand on her chest.

Catelyn just waved off her comment, “If those ladies in the south can wear this than you can too. There will be many lords today at Robb’s betrothal announcement with Margaery Tyrell both from the Reach and from here in the North. You are of age to wed now.”

Arya made a face, “I know, I know. But its _Robb’s_ day, why do I have to wear this bloody thing?”

“Arya! Language.” Her mother admonished.

Arya just rolled her eyes, “Shouldn’t you focus on Sansa getting betrothed first? She’s older and actually wants to get married.”

Catelyn crossed her arms; she was also dressed in one of her finer dresses. Her greying Tully red hair was neatly pulled back in a northern hairstyle. “I am focused on that, but it’s not her I have to worry about wrestling into a dress. Besides, I don’t want to give Lady Olenna anymore to gossip about. She already sticks her nose up at us just for being northerners. Imagine her face when she sees you and Sansa in fine Highgarden dresses.” Catelyn had a mischievous glint in her eye.

Arya grinned, if there was ever a reason to wear a dress, she supposed that one wasn’t too bad.

**

Arya walked down the stone stairs of Winterfell heading towards the Great Hall. Her mother left her to go check on Sansa. Her brothers were already there entertaining the guests that have already arrived. She could hear familiar voices up ahead and as she rounded a corner, she could see her father talking with Gendry.

Gendry had just presented Ned with a sword, presumably a gift to Robb, “I have your order, my Lord.”

Ned unsheathed the sword, inspecting the sword as he tilted it, “Excellent craftsmanship. As always.”

Gendry smiled proudly, “Thank you, my Lord. I’ll pass on the compliment. The blade is made of the finest steel we could fine. There’s gold filigree laid into the handle carved into the shape of a direwolf. And if I may…” Gendry held out his hand for the sword which Ned handed back over. He balanced the blade on one finger, “It’s perfectly balanced.”

“Impressive, very impressive my boy.” Ned patted him on his shoulder, a smile wide on his face, “I’m sure Robb will love this.”

Arya thought this would be a good a time as ever to make her presence known. She stepped into the room, a smile on her face, “Gendry! It’s so good to see to you!”

Despite Arya being a lady, she still established a close friendship with Gendry over the years. Often, she would visit him in his forge in White Harbor at Mott’s Shop. She would’ve liked to visit him more but getting past her mother was always a challenge. She was most successful when she disguised herself and wore men’s clothes, her mother often overlooking the raggedly appearance and mistaking her for a servant. Some of her favorite days were when she would just sit in the forge with him, watching him make weapons or fixing steel for other orders. The view was always nice and with him occupied with his task she was always free to ogle without him knowing. She always brought food along as well. She knew Mott wasn’t feeding him enough for his size. Gendry, now twenty, grew to be over six feet. His shoulders were broad, and his upper body was very muscular from hammering away and working steel.

When Arya was closer to the pair she said, “I had a dream about you last night.”

“Arya! That’s hardly proper...” Her father looked uncomfortable.

Gendry blushed, looking away, “About me?”

Arya rolled her eyes at her father then turned to Gendry, “About the day we met, do you remember?”

Gendry looked less embarrassed now, a smile stretching across his face, “How could I forget, my Lady.”

Now Arya turned her annoyance towards him, “Gendry, how many times do I have to tell you to not call me ‘my Lady’?”

Gendry just smirked. They went back and forth on this subject all the time. It’s become almost an inside joke at this point. She’s sure he does it on purpose just to get a rise out of her. “At least once more, my Lady. As always.”

Ned clapped Gendry on the back, “At least the boy as some sense of propriety,” He gave Arya a significant look, “Unlike others I know. Come along Arya or I’m sure we’ll hear an earful from your mother.” With that, Ned walked off towards the Great Hall.

“You know I don’t like it when you call me that.”

“I know but I can’t call you just Arya in front of your father. It’s not…” He trailed off. It seemed like Gendry was just now taking in her appearance for the first time. He looked her up and down, the blush from early returning in full force. “Y-You’re wearing a dress.”

Arya couldn’t help the smirk on her face. If she got this reaction from him, she supposed this was the only other reason to ever wear this bloody corset. “Very observant.”

“You don’t usually wear a dress.”

“No. But I can’t exactly waltz into White Harbor wearing this. Then everyone would know who I am.”

“No, I suppose not.” Gendry still had the blush on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Arya sighed. As much as she wanted to stay here and tease Gendry she knew her mother would be looking for her any minute now. While Ned liked Gendry and didn’t mind their friendship, Catelyn on the other hand was not a fan. She didn’t think Arya should associate with him. Of course, that only made her want to see Gendry more.

Arya crossed her arms, fully aware of how the corset pushed up her chest. “Suppose I better go to the betrothal feast.”

Gendry’s eyes widened as he tried to only look at her face, “Aye. Probably best.”

“Goodbye Gendry,” Arya smirked and winked as she slowly walked backwards before doing a little twirl and heading towards the Great Hall. Maybe those women in Highgarden knew what they were doing after all with these dresses. But she’d never admit that out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?? I feel like I haven't captured the character's voices yet. I've never written for GoT before so hopefully I can get the hang of it soon. Daenerys is kind of like Capt Jack in this story. I'm trying to merge the two worlds... hopefully it's making sense! And I love Daario in the tv series but for the sake of this story lets pretend he's more interested in the gold.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daenerys gets captured and the thirst is real for Arya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just keep in mind that this is an AU incase the characters ever seem OOC. I'd like to think that if Dany was a pirate that'd she learn some sword fighting. Also remember Arya hasn't had all the trauma that she's experienced in the show. Sorry if there are any grammar mistakes! And if it's unclear, it's been weeks since Daario betrayed Dany.

Daenerys adjusted the hat on her head to shield her face. She had her hair tucked in as much as possible.  She swiped the hat just before leaving the dock to hide her hair. Not many had silvery-white hair in these parts of the world. In Essos it was a little more common to find people with silvery-white hair. In places like Lys, for instance, there was more of a concentration of descendants of Old Valyria who shared similar traits to those of the Targaryen’s. In Westeros, however, it was quite the opposite.

She was proud of her heritage and of who she was. A pirate captain. Breaker of Chains. _Khaleesi_. But if she was going to find a ship and a crew to go after Daario then she’d have to blend in here. She didn’t want to be arrested. It’s been weeks since the betrayal and even thinking Daario’s name makes a knot form in her stomach, making her feel uneasy. Likely Daario has found the chest by now and has been spending the gold. He probably procured it maybe not even a full week after he set her adrift in the ocean. She knew they were close according to the rumors and maps of the islands in the area. But the current pushed her small boat west towards Westeros.

She found a few small deserted islands where she fished and rested before letting the current take her away to the next place, praying to land upon civilization soon. She didn’t realize she landed so far north though till she came upon White Harbor.

Daenerys noted that the harbor looked to be pretty packed. There were plenty of Northern ships, but she noted that a few were more Southern in make. She could tell by the design of the ship and by the color of the wood. Also, the sigils on a few ships signaled that the Tyrells were here as well. Were the Starks and the Tyrells friends? There were only a few so it seemed to be a friendly visit.

Daenerys couldn’t decide if this was good news or not. Likely people would be busy putting on a feast and entertaining the guest. It was late afternoon judging by the sun. If she could take one of these ships, then she could head to Tortuga to find a crew. They should be mostly empty now anyways.

Readjusting her hat, she covertly looked around before sneaking onto one of the ships. She checked the deck then the cabin and underneath the ship. It was empty and partially still stocked. This would do nicely.

Daenerys stood at the helm, her hand running over the ship’s wheel. People could say what they wanted about people from Highgarden, but they knew how build beautiful ships. As would be expected from a place that values luxury.

“Oi, you!” Daenerys snapped out of her reverie; her eyes wide. “Get away from the wheel!”

Three soldiers rushed onto the deck of the ship. They must’ve been patrolling the docks and saw her. Daenerys didn’t have any weapons thanks to Daario so she couldn’t fight her way out of this. She frantically looked around before deciding to use her charm. They bore the sigil of House Tyrell. She could talk her way out of this surely with flattery.

“What’re you doing on this boat, Miss? It’s off limits to civilians.” The shorter of the soldiers asked.

Daenerys tried to discreetly tilt the hat further to block as much of her eyes without looking suspicious. “It’s such a lovely boat. The craftmanship of Highgarden is unlike anything in the North.” She flashed an innocent smile.

“Aye, ‘tis true. The North is a bit dreary.” The taller one said, looking smitten after she smiled at him. “C’mon lads, we can’t fault the woman for admiring a good ship.”

The shorter soldier still looked suspicious though, “Still shouldn’t be on this boat. And she don’t look like no Northerner. I’ve never seen no Northerner wear something like that.” Daenerys quickly glanced down at her outfit. She was wearing pants that were tucked into boots. Her shirt on top was form fitting, with the fabric long in the front and the back with slits up to her hips in the sides, showing the pants. It was a good outfit for being a pirate. Maybe not a typical one of the North though.

“Well, the Northerners ‘ave always been a bit… different, eh?” The middle one piped up.

“And I am terribly sorry. Please forgive my mistake.” Daenerys has slowly been edging her way closer to the plank connecting the ship to the dock. “It’s just I’ve never been on a vessel this size before. I was curious.”

The taller one puffed out his chest, “Well you know what they say about size.” Daenerys tried not to wince in disgust at his crude joke. Men, honestly. “If you’re curious about other things, or people, from Highgarden I’d be happy to oblige, Miss.”

“That won’t be necessary, thanks.” A breeze pushed her the brim up her hat up, exposing her purple eyes.

“Eh, wait a minute.” The shorter one was too perceptive. Daenerys further inched her way to the plank. Her heart started to pump harder. Her muscles tensed, getting ready to make a run for it. “You ‘ave purple eyes. Only Targaryen’s ‘ave those.”

“Don’t be silly. You must’ve caught the light wrong.” The taller one said, “C’mon, Miss, show us your eyes again real quick.”

“Is that really necessary gentlemen? Aren’t the Targaryen’s supposed to be all dead?” Daenerys smiled sweetly, trying to look as naïve and innocent as possible.

The shorter one drew his sword, “Show us your eyes, Miss. Matter of fact, take off the hat.”

Daenerys put her arms up in front of her, giving a nervous laugh, “Gentlemen really? This is all a big misunderstanding.” She felt her boot brush the edge of the plank.

The other two soldiers then drew their swords as well. This wasn’t exactly going as expected. Daenerys turned and dashed down the plank. She could hear yells telling her to stop and loud footsteps behind her. She needed to get off the dock so she could hide. She’d have to wait till darkness to then take a ship.

She made a quick turn heading further into White Harbor, to where the shops were all located. She darted down alleys, weaving around a few people who yelped in shock. This was another reason for the pants, it made outrunning people easier. An occupational hazard for a pirate.

Daenerys chanced a quick glance behind her to see the trio of soldiers were blocked briefly by a man with a cart. She took this chance to duck into a shop. She hid by the window, peering out the corner.

“Who’re you?”

The voice startled her already pounding heart. She whirled around to find she was in a blacksmiths shop. There was a burning forge in the back. She could feel the heat coming off it from here. There were also swords and other various weapons and tools laying about as well. There was a man, by the fire, with a hammer in one hand and a horseshoe in the other. His clothes looked dirty and his face and hands were covered in grime.

“A customer.”

“A customer, eh?” He eyed her wearily.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak yet as she tried to catch her breath. She could hear the soldiers yelling outside, their footsteps getting closer. She flattened herself against the wall next to the window. She held her breath as she walked the shadows pass the window and the shouts getting further away. Daenerys sighed a breath in relief. She wiped her forehead, her hand brushing her hat back.

“They looking for you?”

“What makes you say that?” Daenerys straightened her back, chin up in defiance.

The man shrugged, nonchalant. “You look like you’re hiding.”

“I’m not.”

“You burst in here out of breath and when those soldiers come closer you try to disappear into the wall. That sounds like hiding.”

“Are you going to alert the soldiers?” Daenerys stares him down.

“Depends. What’d you do?” The man crossed his arms.

“I didn’t do anything. They just started chasing me. You know men, they think no means yes.” She tried to play it off that the soldiers were after her just because she was a woman.

“Right. That’s why they’re yelling.” The man narrowed his eyes suspiciously. His eyes glanced up at the hair escaping her hat. “You don’t look like you’re from around here. Your hair is an interesting color.”

“Why do people keep saying that?” Daenerys sighed, then lunged for one of the swords as the man blocked the path to the door. She pointed the sword at him. She didn’t want to hurt him. He seemed nice enough, but he was in her way. “Get out of my way.” When he didn’t budge, she tried again, “ _Please_ move. I don’t want to hurt you.”

The man grabbed a sword off another table. Daenerys looked at all the swords, “Who makes all these anyways?”

“I do. And I practice with them too.” He brought his sword up defensively, “I’ve heard stories. Stories of a person with hair like yours. The last Targaryen. A _pirate_ who’s crew steals and plunders. Now, why are you here?”

“I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, The Unburnt, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Pirate and Breaker of Chains. You will let me pass.”

“And I am Gendry Waters, bastard. Now that we’ve introduced ourselves… Why are you here? Are you here to harm House Stark or any of it’s members?” Gendry took a step forward.

The yelling of the soldiers returning could be heard outside. Only it sounded like more men this time.

Daenerys narrowed her eyes, her voice like steel. “My business is my own. Now stand aside. I _won’t_ ask again.”

Gendry shook his head. “I can’t let you pass if you are going to harm House Stark.”

Daenerys sighed in frustration. She didn’t have time for this or to explain herself. She swung her sword. Gendry parried, leaving him open for her to kick him in the stomach.

He doubled over, wheezing. “That’s cheating.”

“Pirate.” Daenerys said by way of explanation. When suddenly a bottle was smashed over her head. Her vision faded and the last thing she could see was a bewildered look on Gendry’s face before she collapsed on the ground.

 

* * *

 

 

Arya peaked around the corner to see if the coast was clear. It was late evening and she was currently disguising herself as a lowborn, glad to be out of that dreaded corset. When she was little, she didn’t have to worry as much about sneaking about. She’d wear trousers and a shirt, mess up her hair a bit since she used to keep it short and no one would glance her way. They just figured she was one of them.

But now that Arya was a woman grown, she couldn’t as easily get away with passing for a boy, despite the lack of her height. Her hair was longer now too but she still wore the trousers and shirt. She was more comfortable that way and able to move around freely as she sneaked about.

Arya had a basket in her hand, full of snacks she nicked from the kitchens. She was on her way to the forge in Mott’s Shop where she knew Gendry would be. He often worked well into the night and she secretly suspected (or at least hoped) that it was because he was waiting to see if Arya would show up. Her visits were frequent though random. It was harder to visit during the day since she had her duties as a highborn and he was busy being a smith’s apprentice. Mott would often scold Gendry if she showed up and distracted him. She didn’t like seeing him in trouble, so she tried to stay away from the forge during the day. During the night, however, she had no qualms about sneaking in to visit.

Arya was also extra determined to see him tonight. She heard that there was a pirate who attack a man in the forge sometime after the betrothal feast started. That means that it was shortly after Gendry came by. Maybe the person who was attacked was Tobho Mott and not Gendry. Maybe it was before he got back to the shop. Arya hoped so. Gendry was many things, but a great swordsman he was not. He’s not too bad with his war hammer though.

Luckily, Arya didn’t need to really sneak tonight. Though it made the walk feel more like an adventure when she did. Since the Starks were housing the Tyrells as guests and because tonight was a betrothal feast (that was still in full swing), which involved most of the castle and town, White Harbor and parts of Winter Town were deserted.

Arya opened the side door to the forge and walked in. She made a conscious effort to keep her steps quiet. She could hear the tell-tale rings of a hammer which no doubt Gendry would be using to mold the steel. Arya gently placed her basket of goodies down then leaned against a pillar in the forge, admiring the view in front of her.

With raised eyebrows, Arya was happy to note that Gendry was shirtless. Soot and grime covered parts of his torso and face. It should’ve disgusted her, but she couldn’t help but appreciate how it contoured his cheekbones and muscles. She did a sweep with her eyes, admiring but also looking for any injuries. She couldn’t be completely sure with the grime, but it seemed there was a bruise blossoming on his stomach. She could feel anger in her veins at the thought that someone would hurt him.

Gendry turned his back on her to put the sword he was mending back in the flames. Arya took the opportunity to admire how broad his shoulders looked and the flexing of muscles as he moved the sword around in the flames, getting the metal evenly heated. She could make out some dimples in the small of his back. She could feel a blush coming on as her gaze lowered. The anger in her veins turning into a different kind of fire.

Gendry turned back around to the anvil, hammering away at the sword again before sticking the hot tip into a bucket of water. Steam erupted from the contact and made Gendry’s skin glistened. Just then Gendry lifted his head, making eye contact with Arya.

Willing her blush to go away, she quickly schooled her features to create an air of ease. She let herself stare for another few seconds before looking away to bend down to pick up the basket.

“How long have you been standing there lurkin’?” Gendry said, moving to finish up his sword.

“I wasn’t lurking.” She huffed.

“You were standing there, watching and saying nothing. That’s lurkin’, milady.” Gendry teased. Even with his head bent down to focus on his task, she could make out a smile on his face and she could hear it in his voice.

“Keep calling me ‘my lady’ and I won’t share my snacks with you. I nicked some good ones from the feast too.” Arya proudly held up her basket. She smirked, “I even swiped some lemon cakes.”

Gendry chuckled, shaking his head. He put the sword into a pile before giving Arya his full attention. His retort back seemed to be stuck in his throat as he took her in. His gaze briefly swept up and down her figure before landing back on her face. His gaze seemed to soften.

Arya fidgeted, “What?”

“Nothing,” Gendry shook his head, busying himself by clearing off a table and trying to find a rag to wipe his hands with, “It’s nothing. It’s just…” Arya could make out a slight tint of redness to his cheeks under the grime, “It’s just that you look like you again.”

Arya just raised an eyebrow.

“Not that – not that you didn’t look good in your fancy dress,” Gendry’s eyes widened, his hands wringing the rag in them, “You did! Look good I mean. Before. Really good. Beautiful if I’m honest. But now you look – you just look like _you_ again. Like Arya.” Gendry nodded as the blush in his cheeks redden, his lips pressed in a line as if to stop more words from coming out.

Arya felt a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She felt a warm feeling settle in her belly at him calling her beautiful. She’s never had a man call her that before. It took everything in her to keep a straight face as she walked closer to Gendry, closing the distance between them. She placed the basket next to him.

Still with a straight face she said, “You looked good too. All clean. But you look more like you like this.” Arya traced a finger across the top of his chest, wiping some of the grime off with her finger. Goose pimples appeared where she touched him, his skin feeling hot. “Soot suits you.” Arya winked as she showed the tip of her finger now darkened by grime. Then she gracefully hopped up on the newly cleared table next to him.

“Lemon cake?” Arya offered a bar of the treat, a mask of innocence on her face.

Gendry’s face looked like his mind short circuited, his face blank and Arya fought not to laugh. She liked how easy he was to rile up. He sat on the table next to her, shoulders almost touching, and took the offered lemon cake and took a bite, groaning a bit at the taste. The sound making her stomach feel like butterflies were flying around.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve had sugar.” Arya made a mental note to bring him more sweets on her visits. “Why don’t you bring me sweets more often? Some friend you are.” He jested.

“I’m your only friend. Be grateful I brought you some today.” She elbowed him lightly in the stomach.

Her good mood sobered instantly when she caught him wince, the bruise she saw earlier slipping her mind.

“Are you okay?” She asked quietly. “I heard there was an attack? I tried to come earlier.”

Gendry smiled softly, “I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

“Daenerys Targaryen came into the shop trying to hide. I tried to stop her so the soldiers could capture her. I didn’t want her to harm you… or any other Stark. I asked her why she was here, but she didn’t answer me. She swung a sword at me and when I was distracted, she kicked me in the stomach.” Gendry lightly traced the bruise. Her eyes following the movement. “That’s when Mott smashed a bottle over her head. Took all the credit of her capture too.” Gendry rolled his eyes.

“ _Stupid_ bull,” Arya punched him in the shoulder. He made an indignant sound before she wrapped her arms around his middle. She whispered softly, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He returned the hug just as fiercely, “It’s just a bruise.”

Arya just buried her head in his chest, her cheek flat against his skin. As she breathed the scent of sweat, smoke and something that was uniquely _Gendry_ , Arya never felt safer or more at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Suggestions? Any thing you'd like to see in particular? I hope you guys liked this one. I thought it was fun to write!

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Should I continue? I have a lot of ideas about this. Sorry if there are mistakes. It's 2am and I very briefly looked it over before posting.


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